Tent Mirage

in #fallen-wax6 years ago

Tambourines glisten in candle-light. Mysterious sounds drift over the desert sands. And the moon cuts across a fair-maidens face; who patiently stands behind a large cloaked soldier. You recognize her beauty only until her evident guard catches you staring. Being an emissary from your father's court the customs of these nomadic tradesman seem elegant and warm; but recent skirmishes between their kingdoms armies and your own has left the trade-routes overrun with highwaymen; and an agitated feeling fills the minds of most attendees. However, determined to find a reasonable approach into the confidence of these nomadic traders, and to reopen trade negotiations between your two kingdoms; you remain patiently standing behind your sister. She is seated at one end of a long rectangular wooden table, patiently recounting your kingdom's annual fire-works show to a salt and pepper bearded trader. His eyes twinkling at her every word.
At the other end of the table - which seats twenty-five souls - is situated an elderly man. His eyes glow brightly beneath his traditional kufti; and you can almost read the intensity in his gaze as another large nomadic soldier hands him a scroll of parchment bearing the seal of their Sultan. And it is in this moment that his eyes dart up at your and the corners of his mouth reveal a soft yet weathered smile. The elderly man lifts the scroll with his left hand, and immediately the tambourines cease their dazzling movement. It is then that he breaks the kings seal with a double-edged blade.

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